


Lies I Tell Myself

by synonymouse



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Angst, F/M, Hate Sex, I'm Sorry, POV First Person, Present Tense, Pretty much all the darkness, Rape, Rivalmance, So very sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-02
Updated: 2015-04-02
Packaged: 2018-03-19 13:52:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3612405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/synonymouse/pseuds/synonymouse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fenris means to apologise, to thank her. Not to argue, not again. But the hate just won't go away.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lies I Tell Myself

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this months ago but didn't dare post it. But eh. Who am I kidding. I'm sick and this is what happens in my mind at night. Apologies to Fenris fans -- you should probably read this [fluffy, smut-free piece](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3080954) instead.

This house is too big, I think as I sit down to wait for Hawke in her cold, empty hall. My toes dig into the small rug laid out in front of the bench. It's prickly. The house is too big and the carpets are prickly and no matter how much of a lady Leandra Hawke tries to be, she can't hide how much she fears and distrusts me. I can tell from the way she watches me, and I am thankful that she isn't home this time - in fact, the house is empty, the dwarves having met me in the door on their way out with Orana, to buy her some clothes.

Hawke looks so haggard when she finally arrives that I almost change my mind about coming here. But she greets me with a wan smile and says that no, it's alright, I don't need to come back at a different time. "What happened, are you alright?" I ask.

"It's nothing. Just a mild poison," she waves my question away. Of all her infuriating traits, this has to be the worst. Always carrying on as if her burdens weigh nothing, as if her troubles mean nothing to anyone but herself. She spots my frown and sets her jaw stubbornly. "I'm fine. Anders had no antidote in stock, but he says it'll be out of my system by tomorrow."

Well, fine. Be that way. I came to thank her for how she helped me deal with Hadriana. I came to apologise. So I do.

For once, I really try to keep a lid on the hate, because I always end up having an argument with Hawke over it. For once it might have been nice not to fight. But the moment Hadriana's name passes my lips it comes to a boil once more. The image of her sneering face flashes through my mind and my muscles tense in conditioned response. Hawke doesn't notice, I think; instead she says she was worried about me. I hate her for it. I don't want her to worry. I don't want to worry about her. Except I do. Her concern lies heavy round my throat, choking me.

I hate what she is and I want her so badly. I can't stand her and I want to be with her all the time. I want to leave and I want to carry all her troubles ... It's not fair. I have tried to leave so many times, but I gravitate back to her like ... like she has put a spell on me.

I stare at her lips as she speaks. Then I tear my eyes away and try to explain to her why Hadriana had to die.

And she questions me. That damn woman, that _mage_ questions my right to vengeance.

"And what would you have me do? Hadriana came after me! I have never had the option to simply walk away. Am I supposed to forgive, no matter how many times they hunt me down? Am I supposed to forget all the things they've done to me?"

Hawke's tired eyes meet my glowering gaze levelly. "If you're wondering why you can't move on ... this is it," she says.

"Yes, this is it," I snarl sarcastically, advancing on her. She stands her ground; she always does. "Why can I not grasp something so simple? It's a sickness, this hate, this dark growth inside me that I can't ever get rid of ... and they put it there!" When she says nothing, I deflate somewhat. I remind myself: This isn't why I came here. I tell her that, and turn away from her.

"So you're just going to leave?!" she exclaims, grabbing my arm.

The lyrium veins flare painfully underneath her fingers. I whirl around and slam her back against a wall. Her breath is knocked out of her lungs and she winces when the back of her head smacks against the stone. This close, I can feel the heat of her body against my skin. It's as electrifying as her touch. I hate it, hate what she does to me, hate that I allow it. I want her to touch me again. "Yes. I'm going to leave. Why, are you going to stop me?"

She breathes shallowly, staring at me. "No," she whispers dazedly, "I wasn't..."

I keep her pinned against the wall. It's not as though she couldn't push me away with the flick of a wrist. "You're one of them. You'll always be. All that power ... it'll corrupt you," I state coldly. "One of these days I will find I never got away, I've just exchanged one master for another."

"I wouldn't--" she starts, but I interrupt.

"You're just an abomination waiting to happen," I spit. It's all breaking apart. The cancerous hate growing inside me is splitting my skin. I don't know how to stop it and I don't know if I want to. Hawke's face is an inch from mine, eyes wide enough that I see how bloodshot they are. "You'll snap. You all do when pushed."

I kiss her, forcefully, biting her lip until it bleeds. She's squirming weakly now, pushing at me. I know she wants this, it's what we've both wanted since the start, but she probably imagined she would be in charge. Well, she could be, nothing's stopping her.

"Please, Fenris, don't!" she says as I come up for air, her voice cracking. Her hands are on my shoulders. She's using the wall as leverage, trying to push me away, but she has been reliant on her magic so long there is no strength in them. Her words are fuel on my fires. Hate, desire - I can't tell them apart anymore. I grab her by the arm, start pulling her up the stairs towards her bedroom. She's still pleading with me, asking me to stop.

"Fight me, then!" I demand as I throw her on the bed. She surges up, trying to dart for the door, but I slam my gauntlet into her face with a backhanded swing and she's back on the bed. Blood runs down her chin from her lip. "Show me how mages do it." I'm on top of her, tearing at her robes. They don't come apart immediately and I'm too impatient to keep trying, so I just pull them up to her waist.

Hawke tries to push her skirt down and twist away from me, but I swat her hands away and pin her to the mattress. "I can't fight you!" she cries. Of course she can't. The self-righteous prig could obviously never bring herself to fight one of her friends. I press against her, my cock already hard and throbbing. How many times have I pleasured myself to the thought of her, her face and her hands and her voice? Years, I have waited for this. Dreaded it. Longed for it. As has she.

I free my cock from the confines of my trousers, not bothering to undress properly. What it lacks in length it makes up for it in girth, something that always delighted Danarius when he had me force myself on other slaves. Bile rises in my throat at the memory and I swallow a coughing fit, redirecting the anger at the woman below me. She's crying. It's an act, of course - she plays her part well. I had thought she would take command, but I can play this role as well as any other. I tear her smalls from her body, clawed gauntlets scratching at the skin of her belly.

I'm inside her a moment later. She yelps and pushes at me again, bucking underneath me like an untamed horse. Oh, I'll tame her. "Shut up, mage." I withdraw only to slam back inside her. Her cunt is impossibly tight and I have to stifle a moan. "You could make this stop if you wanted to, you little whore." Every time I thrust into her she makes a small noise at the back of her throat, a tiny little squeak. She's staring at me with those huge dark eyes and tears are streaming down her cheeks and I love her and I fucking _hate_ her for that. "You're cornered. So fight me!" She does nothing, just shakes her head, lips moving but not a word uttered. "You don't want to? Thought not. Whore mage. Fucking ... whore..."

I can't stand to see the look on her face anymore. I withdraw, pulling her with me to the edge of the bed and flipping her over. She tries feebly to crawl away again but when I grab her hips painfully she goes limp, giving up. I fuck her like that, not as I would a man, but the way animals do it. Taking her from behind is far easier. My cock slides in and out without obstruction now, slick with her fluids. She wants this, no matter what her tears say. She wants this.

She wants this. The thought echoes in my head as I pound into her, my hips slamming into her ass with every thrust. She's quiet and subservient and allowing this to happen. She wants this. All this arguing, all those harsh words, all that time spent trying not to touch each other and then accidentally on purpose brushing skin against skin and pointedly not looking at each other. We've been building up to this for years. She wants this. I thrust harder, faster, it's been so long since I felt anything like this, I can't draw it out, I need--

I come, buried to the hilt, filling her up with my seed. I lean over her, panting, fingers digging into the flesh of her hips as my cock throbs inside her. She still doesn't move. She still doesn't say a word.

Well, fine. Be that way! I withdraw. Then she rolls onto her side, drawing her legs onto the bed and curling up in a fetal position. Her face is hidden against the sheets. My eyes fall on her thighs, pale in the dim light. My semen is already seeping out of her cunt. It's stained red. I look down, and for the first time notice the blood on my member.

I reel in confusion. Why has she not healed herself?

I wipe myself on the first bit of cloth I find (it's what's left of her smallclothes) and tuck my now limp cock back into my trousers. Hawke isn't moving. She's not even sobbing. I stare at her, try to find some words.

There are none. I leave.

 

"Fenris!" Anders's eyebrows shoot up. I don't know why he's so surprised to see me here. I live in Hightown. I visit Hawke, sometimes. Why should I not be here?

Even in my dazed state I manage to growl, "Mage."

"Did you see Hawke? I told her I didn't have any magebane antidote but then I realised I'd forgotten to check inside the..."

The abomination keeps rambling, but I'm not listening anymore. I keep walking, and he stops babbling as I pass him, giving me a strange look.

"Are you alright?" he ventures. As if he ever cared about my well-being. As if I would have mattered to him if I hadn't mattered to Hawke. We would have tried to kill each other long ago, if not for her.

"Yes," I lie, even as I reach out to steady myself against a wall. My head is spinning with realisations. I realise that he is on his way over to see her. I realise what he will find. Finally, it hits home.

Magebane.

"It doesn't matter," I whisper to myself. "It doesn't matter now."

I move on.

 

Danarius' fingers clutch my chin, his face uncomfortably close to mine. I have to fight the urge to flinch and pull away.

"And so, the lost sheep returns to the fold," he murmurs, eyes twinkling menacingly. "Of course, your punishment for killing Hadriana will have to be most severe. Will you really take it without fighting back?"

"You'll keep your end of the deal?"

"Oh, yes." He lets go of me, pats my cheek a few times before drawing back. The touch is almost gentle. The way he would always touch me before things got worse. His lips stretch in a mirthless smile. "After I'm through with you, you won't remember a thing. All the details of this unfortunate little misadventure of yours, gone. That, I promise."

I feel myself tumbling into a void. If I had any feelings left, gratefulness might be the one gripping my heart now.

"Then yes."

**Author's Note:**

> please don't kill me >.<;;


End file.
